Bruce Wayne Begins
by DreadLock Mad Master
Summary: "Why bats, Master Bruce?"- "Because bats frighten me. This time my enemies will share my dread." Bruce hurled the batarang at the wall... the wall snapping it in two -"I think It's time I start tending to that tea now..."- "Dang it!I SPENT 3HRS ON THAT!"
1. Chapter 1

Ok, just to start off, I LOVE this film. Best superhero origin story to date. I've watched this almost a thousands times at least. So much so, I wanted to make my own version of it, as you will soon read it's DEFINITIVELY not one in the same. I hope you appreciate my humor to it, I'm a parody NUT when it comes to films like these... But in the end, everything will fall into place...I think... for the Batman, or Bruce Wayne, we all know... at least I think so... You'll have to determine that. Alright, enough chit-chat, strap yourselves in and prepare for the most hilariously serious ride known to bat-man!(haha)... And PLEASE give any comments on this, I don't want my hero left in the dark...(haha, again) Enjoy!

* * *

...

This is...

_**BRUCE WAYNE BEGINS!**_

_( Batman theme plays in the background… Bat logo appears… A storm of bats flash by thus revealing…)_

Young Bruce Wayne dashed through the garden, chasing a girl who had stolen something... property of which did not belong to her…

"Rachel! Rachel! Let me see!" (The boy followes girl into a garden house looking back and forth frantically. A small hand under a table yanks his arm down).

_**WHACK!**_

The boy's head hits the table as he falls upon the ground unconscious. The girl quickly stands up, looking down at the body in horror.

"Oh crock! Bruce! _BRUCE?_"

"What have you done?" There was a crash. The girl whirled her head around to see an old, pale faced butler who had just dropped a whole tray of tea and crumpets, staring at the limp form. Her eyes widened.

"M-Mr. Alfred!"

"What have you done?" The old man staggered forward, wringing his hands in the air, pain written completely on his face.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

"I…I…" the girl spluttered, shaking as she did so. Something then dropped from her hand and landed near the small boys face. An arrow head.

Bruce peaked through his shut eyelids and honed down upon it. Without warning, he leapt up, ensuing a scream from the girl and a "great scott" from the butler, and grabbed his treasure.

"Finders keepers!" He grinned broadly as he pushed the old man into a cart of flower pots. Another crash was heard. The girl ran after him.

"That wasn't very nice!" she yelled out.

_"YOU LITTLE BRAT! IF YOU WERE MY KID I'D BEAT YOU ALL THE WAY FROM HERE TO WORCHESTER!" _The butler screeched.

The girl, Rachel, stood in the middle of the garden, taking a sweep around, looking for her tormentor.

Bruce hid behind a rock wall, his heart pumping as he loaded his BB gun and thus aiming at the backside of the unexpected victim.

"Bruce?" She called again, almost innocently. She was like a sitting duck, and she was all his…

_**CRASH!**_

(Almost in slow motion, young Bruce falls down an old well that was concealed beneath him and now gave way.)

"OW!"

"Bruce?" Rachel peered down the well. Bruce shook his fist.

"My mommy and daddy will sue you for this!" in his high British accent he cried out. He was almost to tears.

"I'll get help!"

"You better!"

"Leave him…", the loud grumpy voice of the butler off yonder said, "the world would be a better place…"

"My daddy will have you flogged for that kind of talk servant!"

"I could beat you right now if I wanted to chappy... and no one would here you scream." His voice was dark.

"MOMMAY! DADDAY!" Bruce wailed.

Rachel ran out of the garden and up the stairs of Wayne Manor. The butler looked about, seeing that he was alone. He slowly peered down at Master Bruce and grinned his yellow teeth.

"Now that we're here…" he reached inside his hidden jacket pocket. "I've been saving this for you…" He pulled out a small vile.

"Get away from me you crazy baboon! MOMMAY! DADDAY!" The butler quickly looked around.

"This is nitro glycerin you little twerp! Shut you up for good this time!" He dropped the bottle and ran like heck.

_"MOMMAY-DADDAY-THE-SERVANTS-TRYING-TO-KILL-ME!"_

_**BOOOOOOOOM!**_

* * *

Older Bruce Wayne wakes with a start. Sweat pouring from his bearded face. He looks over to see an even older Asian dude examining him.

"You have dream?" He said in broken English. Bruce turned his head towards the ceiling, breathing hard.

"A Nightmare."

"Worse than this?" He didn't respond. They were both in a cramped, dank cell in the midst of a Chinese campground. Bruce sat up to ponder this.

"Yep, _muuuch_ worse. You can count on it." He then caught sight of a huge, beefy kinda guy giving him the stink eye. Bruce drummed his fingers together, attempting to look anywhere _but_ him. Trying to ignore him so he might just _go away_. Didn't work...

He thought some more for a moment, then stood up. The Asian dude, desperate in fear, tried to set him back down.

"Hey ugly!" He pointed at the huge man. The old guy slumped down with his head in his hands. The big guys eyes widened.

"You got some attitude? You can swing it around all you want at breakfast tomorrow! I'd like to see you waddle out of that mud pit... _again_! HA!" The man jumped to his feet, still locking his dirty glare. The old man shook his head.

"Tomorrow... you will die."


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce and the old man lined up for their daily gruel at the jailhouse. Everyone regarded them cautiously. The old man spoke up.

"They are going to fight you."

"I fought them yesterday" Bruce mumbled wearily.

"They will fight you everyday. Until they kill you."

"They can't kill me because I'm Batman…"

"What?"

"Nothing", Gruel was suddenly slapped on his plate. It looked like snot.

"Hmph,_ yummy_", he spoke sarcastically. He smiled wryly. Glancing up he raised his eyebrows, "'Please sir… can I have some more?'" A club from out of nowhere butted the side of his face. Bruce held his head as he crumpled down on the ground senseless.

* * *

_"Are you so desperate to fight criminals that you lock yourself in to take them on one at a time?"_

"Oh Jeez!" Bruce, on the dirt floor, scrambled to his feet as his face was just a couple inches away from this opium smelling, sensei guy in a black suit.

"You have nothing to fear from me, _Mr. Wayne_."

Bruce froze at the mention of his surname. He then turned his head slightly to the side, giving the same stink eye that the huge guy in the cell had previously given him. Cautiously he sized the man up, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He whispered in his low "Batman-voice":

"How do you know my name?"

"The world is too small for someone like Bruce Wayne to disappear…"

"Bull stuff"

"…No matter how far he chooses to sink." He cocked an eyebrow.

"I said _bull... stuff_! Who are you?"

"My name is merely Ducard. But I speak for Ra's Al Ghul…"

"Huh", he smirked, "you lie…"

"Huh?"

"Continue…" Bruce said, almost amusingly. Ducard was put aside a moment, but then cleared his throat

"Ra's Al Ghul, a man greatly feared by the criminal underworld. A man that can offer you a path."

"What I want _offered_ is a glass of whiskey."

"Someone like you is only here by choice. You have been exploring the criminal fertility, but, whatever your original intentions, you have become truly lost."

"I think _you_ truly _"lost it"_ when you took your first whiff of incense at your ritual dedication ceremony…"

"DARN YOU!", He stomped his foot upon the ground indignantly, "Fine! I'll leave you here to rot then!" He turned towards to door.

"Wait! On what path can ol' Ra's Al Ghul offer anyway?"

_(Sensei background music)_

"A part of a man who shares his hatred of evil… and wishes to serve true justice. A path of _The League of Shadows."_

"Ha! A cult!"

"Are you even listening?"

"Ok, a cult of vigilantes"

"No, no, no! A vigilante is just a man lost in the scamble of his own gratification. He can be destroyed, or… _locked up_…"

"Are you implying something sensei?" Bruce glared.

"What I'm saying is that if you make youself _more_ than a just man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you… Then you become something else entirely".

(ominous pause)

"Which is?"

"Legend, Mr. Wayne."

(another pause)

"That's deep sensei…" He idly started to roll a cigarette pulled from his back pocket. Ducard's hands were clenched, his face red as chili(yes, chili is red).

"Tomorrow you'll be released. If your bored of brawling with piety thieves who want to _achieve_ something, there is a rare blue flower that grows on the eastern slopes. Pick one of these flowers…

"Like this one?" out of no where he drew out the blossom. Ducard stood there gawking at it, almost slack jawed.

"That's Impossible…"

"I'm Batman…"

"What?"

"I have a whole bag full of these suckers. Wanna see 'em?"

Ducard tightened his lips. He went on slowly as if he didn't hear.

"Then, If you can carry it to the top of the mountain…"

"Do you mean _it_ or _them?_" He shook a bag high in the air. Rustling could be heard of at least a whole bushel of blue flowers. Ducard's voice became more intense.

"_If_ you _**can**_ carry it to the top of the mountain… you may find what you were looking for in the first place." He rapped once upon the door, anxious to leave. It opened in a second as he made his way out, but not until Bruce uttered his last words.

"What do ya mean? I'm not trying to _"find myself"_ in this _"messed up world"_ kinda bit. That's full of bull sensei! I'm just trying to find a way to _"save the world from corruption"_, what exactly are **you **trying to do?"

It was Bruce's turn to cock an eyebrow. Ducard paused, back still turned, his form half way out the door. Was that a small twitch that he caught at the edge of his mouth?

"What was I looking for, sensei?" Ducard suddenly faced him.

"Only you can know that."

"I better 'cause you sure don't."


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce Wayne flew through the air as he was now thrown forcefully from out behind the back of a moving truck.

"Thanks for stopping you jerks!" Bruce kicked the dirt road, sending some of it their way. Bruce traveled alone towards the mountain peaks.

For days he traveled, picking up extra blue flowers along the way, until he came to a small village amidst the snow and rocks. Walking through, all the villagers retreated to their houses.

"Back, you go back." One Chinese dude warned as he hastily dragged his child into the hut.

Soon, he finally arrived at his destination. A towering Chinese mansion that spanned the hill sides. Bruce stood there looking skyward. No doubt gazing upon its grandeur and stature. It's broad architectural outlook of fine Chinese art. No doubt the awe and wonderment that was held in the eyes of this wayward stranger in a foreign land…

"Hmph, cheap… I've seen better…I've _bought_ better." He hiked up towards the entrance, the bag of full of _supposedly_ rare blue flowers slung on his back. He began to knock on the door when something on the side of it caught his eye. Bruce cocked his head to the side. An engraving that seemed to be branded with a certain name label, it was barely visible.

"_Made in Thailand. I knew it!"_ Without warning the huge doors swung inward. Bruce stumbled in, numbed by the cold.

A steamed filled room soon met him, the humid air hitting his face. Sounds of bubbling water could be heard, along with the strong smell of spicy incense that was now making him gag. There, sitting in a large shakoozy hot tub, was a bald, half naked old sensei guy. He held a tall glass of Clipton ice tea in his right hand and a remote to the bubble control to the tub in his left. A maiden masseuse was massaging his bony, little shoulders with ointment as the man's eyes were half closed in deep meditation.

"Ra's Al Ghul?" Bruce spluttered, not believeing _at all_ what he was witnessing. The man opened his eyes, peering in his direction. The doors from behind slammed shut. Bruce spun around and caught a black ninja barring the entry.

"Oh Shoot…" Men started coming out of nowhere from the shadows, closing him on him, preparing to take him out… He was hoping lunch since he missed breakfast…

"Wait." A familiar voice. It was Ducard. Ra's then spoke a few words in Chinese, all the while looking at him.

"What are you seeking?" Ducard translated.

"Didn't we already have this discussion before? I just came over an entire mountain old man! Cut to the chase sensei!"

"YOU DARE?"

"DISHONOR!"

"SOMEONE CUT OFF HIS HEAD!"

"Wait, wait, _wait_!", Bruce spoke hastily, arms over his head as ninjas with swords were begging to charge at him. He had to talk fast. "I seek the means to fight injustice. To turn fear… on to the ones who prey on the fearful." He quickly dropped the bag of blue flowers from his back onto the floor, kicking it towards Ducard. The bag went sailing across the slippery floor, over the hot tub, right into Ra's Al Ghul's face.

"AAAAHHH!" The sensei shrieked as he sank to the bottom of the tub. The masseuse screamed.

"YOU!" Ducard madder than ever and drew his sword, as did everyone else."

"Wait! WAIT! He's still alive! Pull him out! PULL HIM OUT!"

Just then the bubble control slid in after him.

_**SPZZZZZT!**_

Ra's body slowly floated to the top of the pool. Face down.

"Aw _nooo!" _Bruce wined as Ducard swiped his legs out from under him, Bruce hitting the ground hard. He was going to die.

Ducard stood over him, sword at his throat.

"Make no mistake, here you face death."

"Oh, don't I know it sensei…"

"Are you not afraid?"

"Heh, not you that's for sure!" Ducard twisted the blade a tad deeper. Bruce winced.

"Then tell us, Mr. Wayne, what do you fear?" There was a dramatic pause. Bruce turned away.

"Alfred."


	4. Chapter 4

_**(Flashback)**_

_Bats screech by once again, revealing young Bruce Wayne who had fallen into the well…_

Young Bruce opened his eyes, what happened? Had he suddenly become unconscious? His mind raced, thinking back of what his crazy butler slave tried to do to him. He then found a small vile sitting right next to him. Bruce jumped back, but then saw closely for what it really was. A tiny firecracker was attached to it, the ends black for it had already gone off. Bruce picked it up and carefully unscrewed the lid. Placing it to his nose, it wrinkled with disgust and also strong resentment.

"Vinegar!" A loud cackle could be heard from high above and the thudding sound of a butler's fist slapping the ground.

"I'M GONNA TELL MY DADDY ON YOU!" Just then the laughter immediately stopped. Moments later he could hear a "worried voiced" butler talking to his father who had just throne down a rope to retrieve his fallen son.

"I didn't know what to do, Master Wayne, I'd give my very life to that boy of yours, I would. Such a fragile thing." Alfred's long fingers were clasped together as he looked down toward him.

"YOU LIER!" Alfred stuck out his tongue as Mr. Wayne began to descend downward.

"It's ok, Bruce, its ok." His father said calmly.

"NO IT IS NOT '_OK_!'" Bruce yelled in a high pitched british accent.

"Settle down, Bruce."

"The slave tried to kill me!"

"Again?" Mr. Wayne smirked. He glanced up shaking his head, Alfred, eyes closed, nodded back.

"It's true! Don't you see?"

"I see you've been causing a lot of mischief young man, now come on."

"But… but…" Bruce stammered. Alfred grinned a yellow toothed smile.

* * *

"Will we be needing the ambulance, sir?" Alfred inquired, as both of them were walking up the steps to the manor. Mr. Wayne was carrying Bruce who was keeping a watchful eye on the butler.

"I'll set the bone and take him for an x-ray later."

"Very good, sir." Waiting at the top was Rachel and her mother, who was very concerned about the horrible dilemma.

"I'm very sorry, sir. I've told Rachel…"

"DARN RIGHT YOU SHOULD BE SORRY! That little gremlin!"

"That's enough Bruce." His father spoke firmly.

"My daddy will run you clean through the roof with all the hospital bills you'll have to pay for my full recovery!"

"That's enough Bruce!"

"Then when we sue you, you'll have to go live out on the streets and eat trash like the rest of Garbage Gotham!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

"Here, Master Wayne." Alfred spoke cooly, his face blank. "Let _me_ take the boy to his room and then I'll fix him a nice pot of tea… You poor boy." He held out his arms. Bruce glared at him, clinging tightly to his father's neck.

As they pasted Rachel and her mom, Bruce placed the treasured arrow head in the small palms of his rival.

"Here, take it, you can have it." Bruce mumbled. They walked past.

Rachel studied it a bit. A smile began to grow slowly onto her face. She shrugged with a sigh.

"_I guess he's not that mean and nasty after…"_ Before her thought was finished, however, it instantly disappeared from her eyes. Flared and with fists clenched, she saw Bruce swinging it in circles on a line of fishing wire, all the while laughing silently to himself.

"BRUCE, YOU DIRT BAG! I HOPE YOU DROP OFF THE EDGE OF THE WORLD… AND DIE!"

"Rachel Dawes!" Her mother scolded, as Mr. Wayne and Alfred went into their abode.

* * *

"Took quite a fall, didn't we Master Bruce?" Bruce wanted to sock him.

"And why do we fall Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up." Alfred let them go the rest of the way, as he looked on.

"I'll be there soon to tuck you in, Master Brucey." He had that same yellow grin.

"That won't be necessary Alfred."

"Very well Master Wayne." He frowned. Bruce put a thumb to his nose, wiggling his fingers.

"_Blast that boy!"_


	5. Chapter 5

Young Bruce lay motionless on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Even with few days past from the "well fall" incident, he still had nightmares of the fact that his crazy butler was trying to snuff him out for good. Added... for some apparent reason, had also developed a sudden phobia of bats since the fall.

"_Strange…"_ He thought. Even though he had never encountered any of these mammals, he had reoccurring visions of them dancing on his head and flying all about him.

"_Very strange…"_ He wore a worried expression on his face.

"The bats again?" Mr. Wayne walked through the door. Bruce sat bolt upright.

"How did you know that?"

"I'm your father, remember?" He smirked, sitting on the bed by his son. Bruce was still skeptical.

"Did Alfred have anything to do with it?"

"You know why they attacked you don't you?"

"You're evading the question! I told you once! I told you a thousand times! I DID NOT SEE ANY BATS! Alfred has twisted you and mum's saturated minds in believing that I have a psychological disorder of bat trauma!"

"But you still claim that you have nightmares of them. Ever since that fall you took. Alfred explained…"

"I do not give two tuppins worth what Alfred _"explained" _about _anything. _The man's a con, liar, and a thief! I even seen him take a few rubles from the secret vault you hid behind the tapestry!"

"First of all I _gave_ Alfred the whereabouts and the code to the vault. Just in case anything happened to me or your mother.

"Hmph, stupid…"

"_Second_, I don't believe I actually remember even showing you that particular hiding place in the first place, young man. And there are actually some things missing from within it." Mr. Wayne cocked an eyebrow looking straight at his son. Bruce's jaw dropped.

"You don't actually believe that _**I**_ stole anything! What has Alfred been telling you? Lies! He's trying to due me in so he can inherit the shares of the family fortune! You wait and see! He'll have it all…"

"Enough Bruce, we'll talk about this later. At least until you can learn to tell the truth…" Bruce was exasperated. He glanced past his dad's shoulder just in time to see a yellow grinned butler pass by down the hallway.

"Now, you know why they were attacking you?"

"Oh, the bats? Gee, I have NO idea…" Bruce rolled his eyes.

"They were afraid of you."

"Seen that one comin'."

"All creatures have fear."

"Yeah, EXSPECIALLY THE SCARY ONES, RIGHT BUTLA?" Bruce yelled out the door and into the hall, in hopes that Alfred would hear.

"Yeees, especially the scary ones…"

"Can I shoot him daddy?"

"NO Bruce."

"Pity…"

"I have something to show you." Pulling out a black, narrow box from his pocket, Mr. Wayne opened it revealing a stunning ladies' pearl necklace.

"You think your mother will like it?"

"How should I know pops? You could have found it on Quebay or won it from the claw machine for all my 'infinite knowledge'. Looks cheap to me, though." Mr. Wayne snapped it closed.

"I think it's time to get up." He said with a squint.

"Maybe I don't want to."

"_Now_ Bruce."

"Make me!"

"Oh Alfred…"

"Getting up!"

* * *

Bruce stood on the moving train, wearing his best suit. With one hand on the rail he looked out the window taking in the full sight of Gotham city. The view was incredible.

"Did you build this train, dad?" Mr Wayne, with his wife beside him, nodded a yes.

"Gotham's been good to our family."

"Heh, you got that right…" A guy reading the newspaper sitting across from them snorted rudely.

"Like from our tax dollars we shell out every month so that you fat cats can live in peace, harmony, and happiness." The man licked his fingers and turned the next page to his paper abruptly. Mr. Wayne continued, ignoring him.

"But the cities' been suffering. People less fortunate than us have been enduring very hard times." There was a another stifled snort from behind the paper.

"_Like really you care?"_ Bruce thought he might of heard, but wasn't quite sure of.

"So we built a new, cheap, public transportation system to unite the city..."

"Yeah, _we _the_ people_ that is… and their tax dollars."

"Will you be please be quiet, sir? I'm talking to my son here."

"Oh, forgive me, _your majesty…" _The man went back to his paper again.

"And in the center of this train, Bruce, there... is Wayne Tower." As if right on cue, the tower appeared as it shown brightly against the sky.

"Is that where you work?" Bruce asked inquisitively.

"Your daddy won't work there cause your daddy might get easily mobbed for flushing the 'peasants' cash flow down the drain for a his miraculous 'toy train' when the subway was enough..." Mr. Wayne turned his direction but the man hunkered down into his paper.

"No, I work at the hospital", he turned back round, talking to Bruce, "I leave the running of the company to much _better_ men."

"'Better?'" Bruce voice was puzzled.

"Well", Mr. Wayne looked at is wife with a smile, "More _interested_ men."

"_Alfred! Dang him! I knew it!"_

Bruce peered out the window once more as the transport glided whimsically above the Gotham's busy streets and past its glistening buildings. The Waynes were going to the opera and it's anyone's guess of what events may unfold there…


	6. Chapter 6

Young Bruce Wayne sat between his mum and dad, as they were both transfixed upon the production playing before them. Bruce _hated_ the opera, or any kind of theatrical play for that matter, as his folks knew all to well from shows from times past…

* * *

"_The hills are aliiiiiiiiiiiiiive with the sound of…AAAH!" _(Actress on stage twists ankle and falls face first into the "grass" with an echoing bang. People stand, gasping in horror). Pause

"That was fantastic! That was the best part in the whole show and it barely even started yet! Bravo! Encore! Encore!"(only one clapping his hands) "Did you see that dad? SPLAT!" (Bruce's dad shrinks in chair as medics hauls actress away to the ambulance)

* * *

_"Food, glorious food! Hot sausage and mustard! While we're in the mood - Cold jelly and custard! Pease pudding and saveloy! What next is the question? Rich gentlemen have it, boys - In-di-gestion!_ _Food, glorious food! We're anxious to try it. Three banquets a day - Our favorite diet! Just picture a great big steak - Fried, roasted or stewed. Oh, food, Wonderful food, Marvelous food, Glorious…"_

"DADDY! THIS SONG IS MAKIN' ME HUNGRY AND I'M STARVED! LET'S GO TO THAT MILLION DOLLAR DINNER RESTAURANT YOU ALWAYS TAKE US ALL TO AND DITCH THIS SAD PLAYED MONTAGE OF GOSH AWEFUL GOTHAM CITY!" (People turn to look at them)

"Yeah! I'm talkin' about_ you_ 'cheap suits'! My daddy's high end! I see fakes when I see one! Hey lady, where you get the wig? Hey, I bet you got that suit on sale, right buddy? HAHAHAHA! **_'SALE_'**! HAHA! LOSER!"

* * *

Mr. Wayne shuddered involuntarily, hoping to himself that the situation would never, EVER happen again. But Bruce was strangely quiet… He looked over to him. He seemed that he was almost glued to his chair, his fingers digging into the arm rests, feet planted, and eyes wide open.

"_Hmph, finally he's beginning to enjoy himself, finally __**I**__ can get to enjoy myself…"_ He started to watch the play again intently. But Bruce was far from from being contented. He felt like he was in a nightmare! Witches and bats roamed everywhere on the stage. Fog, grave yards, the works! But that wasn't what was bothering him now…

A cold sweat ran across Bruces' forhead.

"_Alfred!" _All the faces looked like his devilish butler! To his right was Alfred in high heels and pointy hat swooping in on a broom cackling his british cackle. To his left was Alfred again stirring a pot as fast as a blender with his head bobbing back and forth, laughing crazily. But worse yet was the bats! All seeming like thousands of furry faced Alfreds, swung through the ropes and, _great scott_, they were even screeching his name!

"_Join us Master Brucey, join us! Join us Master Brucey, join us!" _over and over they chanted, with all of them bearing identical, yellow toothy grins.

Bruce wanted out fast or else he would have to do something desperate. He turned shakily to his father, who was aware of this action, but didn't want to respond to it.

"_Cr*p, I knew it was to good to be true!" _Mr. Wayne steamed to himself. He then heard that squeaky, little voice.

"Can we go…? Please?" He squirmed to get up. That was the last straw.

"SHUT UP BRUCE! SET YOUR BUTT DOWN SO WE CAN FINISH THE JAMN PLAY!" Everyone turned and stared, with murmurs and whispers carring throughout the crowd. Some were moving away from them, swearing underneath their breathe, in discovering who they were just _now_ sitting by. Mrs. Wayne bent forward and cocked an eyebrow to her husband.

"Are you ok, dear?"

Mr. Wayne hung his head, covering his face in contained anger and embarrassment. It had happened again and this time _he_ had pulled the trigger. The show still went on and Bruce asked again.

"Can we go?" Mr. Wayne peered over his fingers with blood shot eyes. Bruce shrank back a little.

"Please?"

* * *

Bruce and his folks stepped out the side entrance into the alley way. Mr. Wayne didn't want any more attention drawn and have the usual points and whispered jives about their… _"opinionated" _son.

"Your supposed to be the Prince of Gotham city for cryin' out loud!" Mr. Wayne finally exploded.

"I AM a prince! I'm going to be a superhero too and snub all of your rich friends and permanently run your name into the ground while I'm at it!"

"WHAT?"

"What's wrong Bruce?" Mrs. Wayne came out behind, seeing her son's flush face.

"Oh no, it was me…" Mr. Wayne said hastily, scratching the back of his neck indignantly.

"Ha, I _know_ it was, dear", she spoke coolly with a smirk, "For_ this_ time." Mr. Wayne rubbed his temples.

"I just needed some fresh air is all!"

"You're tellin' me…" His head snapped to Bruce, who was whistling a tune looking up.

"Come on, let's go…" Wayne grumbled. They started out towards the street. Just then, a man had caught Mr. Waynes' eye. Before he could think of anything else he was quickly face to face with the barrel of a gun, in the hands of a smelly hobo that had caught to many 'highs' in one night.

"Wallet…jewelry… fast!"

"Oh crock!" Bruce exclaimed.

"Shut up, kid!"

"That's fine, take it easy…" Mr. Wayne said steadily . He held one finger up, then slowly motioned his hands towards… his son! Bringing him up in front.

"What in the world do you think…!"

"Here, take him, he's worth his weight in gold for Gotham, but a paper weight of lead to us." Mrs. Wayne's jaw dropped opened.

"Dear.."

"Shh…" he hissed softly, not breaking eye contact with the guy with the gun. The guy looked down at Bruce then back to Mr. Wayne.

"Is this a joke?"

"This is how it works", Wayne spoke casually, "You take him... you get money for ransom, and then what **_I'll_** do…"

"POLICE! HELP! POLICE! MY DADDY IS GONNA GIVE ME UP TO A PSYCOPATH WITH A GUN!" The guy swept his head around.

"I knew it! Give me the dough old man!" Mr. Wayne pushed his son into him and ran like heck to the busy road.

"Dear! No! don't leave us!_ NOOOOO!_" Her voice rang like that like an opera singer as she ran toward her cowardly husband with out groping hands.

"I see jewelry!" Mrs. Wayne swung her purse in his face, knocking him to the ground and continued to run. It was as if in slow motion. Seconds turning into minutes, minutes into moments, moments into still frame, still frame to what is plastered to your living room wall like a nightmare stuck in time that you continue to re-live over and over again…! But that's off topic.

Mr. Wayne only looked back only once. Unwittingly he hopped into the middle of the road, he already had Alfred on speed dial.

"I can't believe you!" Mrs. Wayne shrieked, grabbing the phone from his hands.

"Shut up woman and give me that phone!"

"Our son! Our only son, Thomas!"

"Pain in my side!" He lunged and grabbed it back putting it to his ear turning away, face looking down the highway.

"_Hello? Master Wayne?"_

"Alfred! Come…OH SH…" Just then a semi filled the view of the narrow alley way, Bruce laying on the floor, witness to it all. He was panting heavily as it passed by, leaving nothing in it's wake. He looked at the mangled hobo who was now scampering away into the darkness.

Bruce thought he might vomit right then and there and pass out. But just in that moment, a black limousine screeched up in front of his view. As it stopped the door suddenly clicked opened. Even though he was a good feet away from the vehicle, the lights from the street stretching long into the blackness, revealed that same, familiar face and Cheshire cat grin. It was all but too recognizable who that person was...

Bruce's eyes widened. He was alone in the middle of Gotham city. Helpless. With no police, no maids, and right now, if reality could get any worse, no parents either. It was Alfred, his butler, and he had him exactly where he wanted him.

"NOOO!" It was all in slow-mo again, with Alfred dressed in a black trench coat wearing a dark hat that covered half his face. He closed the door with his left hand as he held something _else_ in his right."

"MOMMY! DADDY!" But it was all in vain. Bruce Wayne, the boy who cried mad butler. No one to care, no one to believe him and no one to hear him scream.

"HEEELLLLP!" Alfred was quickly upon him, Bruce slipping in the muck of the slim floor as he tried to tread footing. Alfred grabbed Bruce's shoulders, then put him in a head lock. Bruce kicked and yelled but the butler was too strong. He brought up what was in his right hand.

"RAPE! You'll never get away with this villian! The inheritance belongs to me! _MMnnmm!_" That was all he could manage to say before a hand with a cloth covered his gaping mouth.

"_Don't be afraid, Bruce."_ a voice whispered.

Within seconds, Bruce's world went black.


	7. Chapter 7

"WHERE AM I?" Bruce jumped awake from his seat. He was sitting in the office of the Gotham Police Dept. One of them came in, hearing Bruce's cry of alarm.

"Whatever happened, I didn't do it! It was that crazy butler's fault!"

"Calm down son, a man left you at our doors and said that there was a murder downtown…"

"That man was my butler in disguise! And if I hadn't known any better I'd say he orchestrated the whole entire thing!"

"We know it's your folks…Is this your father's?" The man held up a jacket. Bruce snatched it up, his hand first thing diving into the deep pockets.

"Dang him! He took daddy's wallet too!"

"You mean the one that robbed your parents…" Bruce turned to see the commissioner standing in the doorway, holding Mr. Wayne's wallet.

"Good news son, we got him."

* * *

"You're in excellent hands…" They were all standing in front of Wayne manor. Bruce, Alfred, and about another forty people. There was a cemetery there that housed centuries of Waynes, and of which two more had just been added to it. As everyone began to disperse, Bruce looked up at the man now in charge of his family buisiness.

"_I bet I am, bucko… As far as I'm conserned to you I'm only the keychain to the key of that ferrai you've just got. MY COMPANY!"_

"We'll be watching the empire…" He continued.

"_Yeah, well, who's gonna be watchin' __**me**__?" _Bruce snuck a glance at his butler who was holding an umbrella over them because of the beginning rain. His face was listless, not showing any emtion whatsoever. He slowly turned his head toward Bruce. Bruce quickly glanced away.

"…When you grow up, it'll be waiting for you." The man shook his hand and walked back to his vehicle.

"What if I don't live to see that day? What if the market crashes?" The car rolled away. Now, given a few people that were leaving, it was only him …and his butler. Bruce snuck another glance toward him and was startled to see him staring right back like the crypt of the living dead.

"You don't scare me Alfred! You need me alive anyway! _I'm_ the only living aire! Now go make me some tea slave!" The butler didn't budge, not even an inch. Bruce's heart was beginning to beat fast.

"G...Go on! Get some tea you idiot!" He kicked the butler hard in the knee.

"MMNNARAAAA!" Alfred went down, dropping his umbrella and holding his kneecap. Bruce couldn't resist…

"THIS IS FOR KNOCKING ME OUT WITH CHLOROFORM YOU PSYCHO NUT!" He then kicked the butler again which this time sent him face first into a mud puddle. Bruce ran like heck and locked the doors.

"I GOT YOU RIGHT WHERE I WANT YOU YA LITTLE TWERP! YOU CAN'T LAST LONG IN THERE FOREVA!"


	8. Chapter 8

Bruce panted frantically, hearing his butlers voice, or in this case_ "ex- butler"_. But he was right, he couldn't stay in the mansion forever… Knowing ol' Alfie, this was just the crazy excuse he could use for the "Bording School for the Mentally Ill Boys by Cause of Losing Parents" to get rid of him for good! There was only one thing that he could do…

* * *

"What _did_ you do?" Ducard asked, both leaning on the railing overlooking the white, snow covered landscape. The older Bruce gave a thoughtful nod, chewing on a piece of smoked jerky.

"The only thing, I went to the family vault behind the tapestry to make 'a deposit' and hit the road and found the will instead…" Ducard's eyebrow's raised.

"Really... idiotic…"

"Alfred? I know. Sucker should of took it when he had the chance..."

"So…?"

"So, **_I_** hid it where he could never find it and made a deal with him... 'Cause without the will…"

"Snuffing you out would be pointless. It would be leaving money to the dead, thus leaving a penniless butler."

"With no means of "funds" to pay off particular people to keep their mouths shut…"

"Bet he loved that." Ducard smirked.

"He had no choice in the matter" Bruce returned it.

"And what were your demands upon your deal...?" Bruce smiled cryptically.

"Now, I can't go on telling you _everything. _Don't want to spoil _too_ much, do I Ducu?" Ducard gave him a slight glare.

"Just one more question… Do you ever think that you should feel _responsible_ for your parents death? Do to the fact you led them out to that street?" Bruce looked at him. He paused for a brief second before responding.

"My anger out ways my guilt…" Ducard leaned back up.

"Come" They started to walk.

* * *

"You have learned to bury your guilt with anger. I will teach you to confront it and to face the truth. You know how to fight six men. We can teach you how to engage. You know how to disappear. We can teach you to become truly invisible…"

"Invisible?"

_(Speaks Chinese lingo)_- Guy's come fall from the ceiling.

"WHOA!"

"The ninja understands that invisibility is a matter of patience and agility."

"I'll say…" _Note: gotta try that one on Alfred, give that old man a heart attack!_

* * *

"Always mind your surroundings…"

"Check…"

"Ninjitsu employs explosive powders."

"Weapons?"

"Or distractions."

"Aah, check…"

"Theatricality and deception are powerful agents. You must become more than just a man in the mind of your opponent."

"How about a bat?"

"Yes... wait, WHAT?"

"Ok, double check…and…Save!"

"How did you get an iPad up here?"

_I want one!_ (Random ninja guy)

* * *

"Your parents' death was not your fault."

Ducard spun around blocking a sparing shot from the blade of his apprentice. He looked Bruce straight in the eyes.

"It was your father's."

**_"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_**

"WHOA! Settle down, man! Take it like a man!"

"Sorry, always wanted to do that. Seen it in a movie once…"

"Anger does not change the fact that your father failed to act."

"The man had a gun. My dad was in a weak moment. Buying me off was the next best thing in his mind…"

"Huh, Would that stop you?" Ducard snorted, turning away. The sound of the frozen lake they were on cracked like thunder.

"I've had training! Put that back 20 years and I could have kicked that guys…"

"The training is nothing! Will is everything…!"

"I'm taking you down today, Ducu!"

"…The will to act. Go on, show me…"

**_(Two seconds of kick-butt action moves later)_**

"Yield ya Chinese piece of garbage! YIELD!" Ducard, breathing hard, laid sprawled out, face looking like hail sent from heaven dumped its load on him.

"You haven't beaten me…" He coughed.

"Heck yeah!"

"You have sacrificed sure footing for a killing stroke."

(Sword + ice + "whack"= 'fall') – (Camera pans out)

"OHMYGOSH! THIS WATER IS COLLLLLD! #%$! AAAAAAHH! I CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!"

"Heheheh, I'm definitely facebooking this one... smile for the cellphone camera!"

"IF YOU LIVE THAT LONG, YOU…!"

_**SNAP**_


	9. Chapter 9

_(Later, Bruce & Ducard are sitting around a fire, Ducard finishing his life story.)_

"Then what stopped it...?" Bruce replied.

"Vengeance."

"That works between me and the butler, but that's no help to me."

"Why, Bruce?"

"Well, if I told you, it would probably ruin the whole movie…"

"What? What is wrong with you?" Bruce smirked looking into the flames."

"Nothing…"

"What I _meant_ was, why could you not avenge your parents?" There was a silent pause.

"You know, that's a very good question…I'll bloogle it on my iPad and see what answer it gives me…"

"Siiiiiigh…"

* * *

_**(FLASHBACK)**_

"Will you be heading back to Princeton after the hearing, sir...?" Alfred spoke up, walking up the stairs of Wayne Manor with his predecessor, after years being away at college.

"...Or can I persuade you to stay on for a day or two?"

"I'm not heading back at all, Alfred", Bruce said abruptly.

"You don't like it there?" Bruce looked over at the old kook.

"Anywhere away from _you_ is a good place... I like it fine. But still, they just don't feel the same way."

"What a shame…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just glad to see you safe & sound of mind back at the manor again where you belong, sir."

"Are you now saying my mind isn't sound, Alfred?"

"No, sir, I just meant…" Bruce Wayne took a quick grip of the butler's neck collar, pushing him back over the railing. The butler gasped.

"You think I'm not in my right mind? Huh? You think I'm _disturbed_, Alfred."

"If you don't mind my saying, sir, this act doesn't help your statement very…" Bruce tightened his grip, causing Alfred to choke.

"I've... prepared the master bedroom…"

"No, my room will be fine."

"With all due respect, sir, Wayne Manor is your house." Bruce put his mouth near the butler's ear.

"That's right old man!" he hissed. "Everything belongs to me, not you. I OWN you. And without that stinkin' will you'll be under my rule until you head to your** grave**! With my guess, that's not that far down the cabbage patch." Alfred stared at him hard. Bruce could only imagine all the nasty names the butler was thinking of now. But he wasn't a defenseless boy any longer. And now that he returned again, he was going to make sure that his butler was going to eat it for the past. Oh yes, he was.

"You will serve _me_ in my father's house."

"Your father is dead", Alfred spoke coolly, but with a glint in his eye.

"This place is a mausoleum! If I have my way, I'll pull the jamn thing down brick by brick! Brick by brick! Ya hear me?" He shook the butler fiercely against the railing, his back almost going over the edge."

"This house, Master Wayne, has sheltered six generations of your family!"

"Why do you give a jamn, Alfred? It's not your family."

"I give a jamn, because a good made once made me responsible..." Bruce spit on the ground.

"...For what was most precious to him..."

"Bull stuff!" He shook.

"...in the whole world." Alfred managed to finish as Bruce started to raise him up off his feet.

"If it wasn't for our little deal years ago, and if you had found that will…"

"Jamn right, sir: you sleepin' with the fishes, with me britches up in the riches. Ha!" Bruce right then threw the old man down the marble stairs. He would of pulled out a gun, but at the needed moment didn't have one available. But he couldn't do it anyway, they had a deal, it was in his best interests to keep him alive.

"Darn you, Alfred!"

"Likewise, sir", He said, getting up and dusting himself off.

"Miss Dawes has offered to drive you to the hearing, sir. She probably hopes to talk you out of going."

"Rachel? Rachel… Rachel…" His lips were pierced, snapping his fingers, trying to remember the name.

"You once hunted her in the garden, sir? I still have the scars to prove it…" A light came on.

"Rachel? _Rachel Dawes?_ That whiney baby turned know-it-all attorney? Aw, geez, she's here? In my house?_ Jamnit_, what's the French word for security around here..."

"She might be exactly what you need…"

"WHAT?"

"Nothing… _sir._" Bruce leaned against the wall rubbing his temples tentatively.

"Should I just bury the past out there with my parents, Alfred?"

"I wouldn't presume to tell you what to do with your past, sir. Just know that there are those of us who care about what you do with your future." He then smiled that awful yellow grin.

"Haven't given up on me yet, have you sick old man?

"Never."


	10. Chapter 10

_"Hey, baby!"_

"AAH!" Rachel turned, her arm taking out a whole shelf.

"What's cookin'?"

"Jeez…" Her hand clutched her heart.

"That's destroying of private property you know…"

"Go to…"

"...FYI, Alfred still keeps the condensed milk on the top shelf."

"Hasn't he noticed you're tall enough to reach now?" Rachel glared.

"Old habits die hard, I guess." Bruce said smirking.

"Like your old crack habit, huh? That die hard as well?"

"I was a troubled kid back then."

"Not that far."

"I was thinking more of your mom's moonshining in our back yard."

"You called the police on us."

"You ratted me out to the folks."

"Never used to stop us anyway."

"No, it didn't... By the way, how _is_ your mom?"

"Rehab."

"…"

"She misses this place..."

"I'm sure it doesn't miss her… _at all_."

"…but so do I."

"Yeah, but it's nothing without the people who made it what it was. Now there's only Alfred... which isn't saying much…"

"And you."

"I'm not staying, Rachel."

"You're just back for the hearing." Bruce didn't respond.

"Bruce, I don't suppose there's any way to convince you not to come."

"Someone at this... "proceeding" should stand for my parents."

"We all loved your parents, Bruce."

"So did the banks… AND the welfare people..."

"...And what Chill did is unforgivable."

"Then why is your boss letting him go?" Rachel's head swooped back and forth, looking over her shoulder. Bruce rubbed his face as she went to close the doors, locking them. She returned to her seat.

"And Gotham recommended **_you_ **to be our district state attorney?"

"Shut up."

"_'Psychopath_', I can do it too…"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"Well, guess what… SO DO YOU, WOMAN!" Bruce leaned back into his chair.

"Tea, sir?"

"WHY YOU SPYING NO GOOD…" Bruce turned throwing a plate at the door. It closed.

"HOW THE HECK DID YOU EVEN PICK THE LOCK? YOU JAMN BUTLER!"

"BRUCE! Stopit!"

"..."

"..."

"..._Ppptttt,_ lol, did you just say _'stopit'_?" Bruce started to bust gut.

"NO! I said 'STOP - IT'!"

"_Stopit."_

"Stop it!"

"_Stopit."_

"Knock it off, Bruce!"

"Ok… _Stopit."_

"Geez, Bruce! Act your age for ONCE! **JUST 'TOPIT!**" Silence filled the entire room. Bruce had both hands clamped upon his mouth, rocking back & forth with tears running down his cheeks. Rachel put her face into her hands. Bruce started to speak, barely able to form words.

"Rach-ch-ch…_sppfff_… I…I…_kkkkcsst..." _There was a burst of laughter behind the door, with footsteps running upstairs and a slam of another. Rachel decided to calm herself, knowing she was amongst mental idiots. She lowered her head down and talked in a low voice to continue her statement.

"Chill. in prison. The shared a cell with Carmine Falcone." Bruce suddenly got serious. "He learned things, and he will testify in exchange for early parole." Bruce leaned forward.

"Rachel, this man killed my parents. If it wasn't for him…I cannot let that pass." He got up from his chair still looking at her. "And I need you to understand that, please." Rachel stared back a few moments before she spoke.

"Okay." Bruce nodded his head and went for the door, opened it, and went through. Rachel sighed, glancing at her hands as she did so. The door re-opened… with a snicker...

"Say it again for me?"

"Oh, Cr*P…serious...? BRUCE!" She picked up a plate and hurled it at the door. Bruce already made his way up the stairs and was slamming the door behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

_(Law and Order __**"Duh-dun"**__)_

* * *

Today: Gotham City Court Hearing

Crime: Murder of Martha & Thomas Wayne (will just say he did)

Suspect: Joe Chill

Subject of Hearing: Early parole in exchange for validating evidence against crime lord Carmine Falcone.

* * *

(Bruce Wayne in dark hood, pushes Law&Order button)

"**DUH-DUN!"**

* * *

_-Finch: Lawyer of Chill_

"The depression hit working people, like Mr. Chill, hardest of all. His crime was appalling, yes, but it was motivated not by greed... but by desperation. Given the years served, as well as his extraordinary level of cooperation, with one of this office's most important investigations... We strongly endorse his petition for early release."

Bruce Wayne, wearing shades, leaned to the person to his right.

"Are you buying this cr*p? I'm sure as heck I'm not buying this cr*p. This is bull…"

_Ssh! _The guy hissed, he scooted away a bit.

_-Gotham City Judge Faden_

"Well, Mr. Chill?"

"Your Honor..." Chill began.

"_Here it comes…"_ Bruce sighed, tapping the side of his head.

"Not a day goes by that I don't wish I could take back what I did. Sure, I was desperate, like a lot of people back then, but that don't change what I did."

_"And there it is... Stinkin' punk-monkey!"_

"I gather there is a member of the _Wayne_ family here today. Has he got anything to say?" Rachel closed her eyes, praying. Bruce stood up.

"Yes, I would like to call on a witness…"

"Mr. Wayne, this not a trial we can't…"

"I call upon Alfred Pennyworth!"

* * *

_**(DUH-DUN!)**_

-_Bruce Wayne: Occupation Millionaire Playboy_

"So 'old friend', where were _you_ when Martha & Thomas Wayne was murdered?"

-_Alfred Pennyworth: Occupation Butler to the richest man in Gotham._

"I was baking brownies for the children's charity foundation for the homeless children of Gotham City, sir." Bruce turned to him.

_OMG, he's kissing butt already? Unbelievable! _

"Save it. But _where_ were you?"

"Well, sir, I was at Wayne manor, sir."

"At what current time?"

"Well, pretty late, sir, as I recall the Wayne's was going to a movie."

"At what time!"

"9:00, sir, the movie started at 9:30"

"Skipping ahead, no, more like _cutting to the chase_. Did or did not Thomas Wayne call you that night, as it was claimed, right before the man was killed?"

"'_Did'_, sir, yes he did. But isn't this already in the records, sir…"

"THEN, where were _YOU_ when that phone call was being placed?" Alfred turned towards the judge.

"Is this really necessary your honor?"

"You know what Mr. Pennyworth? As far as I'm concern this court is out to lunch caused by Mr. Waynes..." He just flung a hand Bruce's way, "So in speaking for the court and jury, please, humor this poor man so we can go on with _LIFE_! And pray to heaven above that we won't kill ourselves 'til it's over…" Alfred turned back in his chair.

"In the answer to your question, Master Bruce, as soon as I got the call, I seem to remember… I was headed out the door as quickly as I…"

"Then WHY is it that, after the murder I, with my own eyes, saw you not but _two minutes_ away pull up in a limousine, dressed in dark clothing, and had chased me down and gagged,_ a minor_, with chloroform. Then dropping me off on the doorstep of the GPD?" The room was silent, echoing his words. Alfred's lips were firm, he stared right at Bruce, a twitched almost coveted his eye. Bruce slid a sly grin.

_Gotcha_

But something unexpected came from forth from the butlers lips.

"_HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" _After a few moments everyone in the room started to join in with him. Followed by the occasional "You crackpot Billionaire!" or "You rich pansy! Ya wimp!" added with other such vulgarities. Rachel Dawes snuck another swig from her "coffee" thermos. The judge pounded his gavel for order, Bruce just stood there, unmoved.

"My dear, dear Master Bruce…", Alfred tried to calm down a bit, "I understand how hard it must seem to be to see the killer of your mother and father to just… fly away like a bird!" A few utters of agreement could be heard from the crowd. "But why, torture these poor, hardworking people, who I'm sure have a lot of things to do, any longer?" More utters of approval could be heard, this time louder. The gavel pounded again. "And on top of that, adding these… outrageous accusations against _me_, which you were probably leading up to having something to do with this murderous rigmarole of, as you suggest, I'm involved in! I knew your parents very well and also cherished them dearly. I even raised their son as if he were my own. My own flesh and blood! I see no reason at all, if I may be so frank in saying so, why I'm up here in the first place and being treating in this fashion. It just… breaks my heart… it really does…" If the room was silent before, it was more silent now than ever. Alfred dabbed his eyes with his pocket handkerchief.

"_YOU'RE A JERK, WAYNE!"_ A random person jeered. The court became restless again, everyone talking over everybody, insults thrown left and right towards the billionaire. With the judge hammering his gavel so hard it almost seemed that it would break at any moment. Through the chaos Alfred snuck one of his sly, Cheshire cat grins Bruce's way.

"_Jamn, he's good..."_ But Bruce's voice deepened in his head, _"But I'm better…"_ Out of nowhere, Bruce pulled out a file in a manila folder from his trench coat and slapped it on the table.

"OH MY GOSH, BRUCE DON'T!" It was Rachel. Skittish Rachel. The room suddenly stopped. Everyone looked at the file. "Oh, thank heaven; I thought it was a bomb…" She took another swig. Bruce closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"_Mr. Wayne…"_ Judge Faden stressed, no matter how rich or important this man was, was ready to call security to drag him out of his courtroom; he wasn't going to embarrass it any longer.

"If my friend, Mr. Alfred Pennyworth, is finished with his prolonged statement, I would like to present… _mine_." Bruce promptly handed the folder the judge, all the while looking at his butler. Alfred, for the first time in his life, was beginning to sweat. Bruce began to pace.

"Ladies & gentlemen, folks of Gotham city, you may not believe this, even though I have been through this load crock that this butler has been feeding you and flinging it at me…" He glanced back at Alfred and winked, the eyes of the judge looking over the files slowly getting wider. "This, what I have in my possession, is photographic evidence… of what my friend the butler _truly_ is…" Alfred began to loosen his neck tie. Bruce spun around and pointed straight at his target.

"A _monster_!" Everyone started to murmur, Rachel was now at her full attention. The judge closed the file and held it up.

"These photographs… are stills taken from security cameras from the neighboring stores that were across from the theater! Photos showing evidence of a man in a dark trench coat, getting out of a limousine… and afterwards… dragging…" He looked at the pale white butler. Alfred didn't bat an eye.

"My gosh, man… my gosh!" The crowd was in pandemonium, Rachel & the judge speechless.

"Oh, I almost forgot the best part…" Bruce shouted over the noise. The sweaty butler snapped his head in the man's direction, His true colors only a hair breathes away from being shown. Bruce smiled, and it was the biggest smile that he had expressed in years.

"Does anybody know if black mailing and document forgery is considered a crime?" Everyone gasped as Bruce withdrew and held high two reams of paper. Two exact copies of the Wayne's family will…

"_NNRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!" _The butler jumped on the stand, ripping his shirt open, and pulling out two buck knives. Total anarchy erupted.

"TAKE HIM DOWN! TAKE HIM DOWN!"

"HOW DID HE GET THOSE IN HERE?"

"OPEN THE DOORS, OPEN THE DOORS!"

"NO WAIT! STOP!" Everyone flooded to the doors, the lights from the media flashing outside, only adding to the chaos.

"I'M TAKING YOU NOW, BRUCEY!" The butler hissed as he lunged in the air descending upon the young billionaire.

"Bring it on old man…" His hand going for his inside pocket.

Now only three things could be heard in that room: The yell of the butler, the screams of the crowd, and one, solitary gunshot. But it wasn't from Bruce Wayne…

"_Falcone, says hi!"_ For one split second Bruce's head turned. It felt like everything was in slow motion. Joe Chill, the guy involved in his parent's deaths, was down…

* * *

_**(DUH-DUN!)**_


	12. Chapter 12

_We interrupt our program for this special news report. I'm Summer Gleesen. This just in. Today was supposed to be the hearing of criminal suspect Joe Chill, who years ago was acclaimed in the murdering of Thomas & Martha Wayne and has been in jail ever since, until today. This afternoon at Gotham City Courthouse, but now it seems to be changing its name to Gotham City 'Mad' House as events unfolded into disaster…Joining us now is one of our reporters on the floor at GCC. Laura…?_

"…_Yes, Summer, it's so loud down here I can barely hear you, we've been standing here waiting for the court to release Joe Chill from early parole when all of a sudden the flood gates opened with everyone storming out… Of what I've gathered so far, Summer, it seems like billionaire Bruce Wayne is the one of the cause of all this... Through the chaos, Joe Chill has been shot in the crowd, they have the lady who did it, but was unable to save the suspect…Summer?"_

"_Thank you, Laura, when we come back, the story on how billionaire Bruce Wayne had managed to evade an attack on his life by his longtime butler, Alfred Pennyworth. Looks like 'the butler did it' and many __**other**__ things so it would seem, up next…"_

* * *

_(Bruce Wayne is in the car with Rachel Dawes. Her driving away from the crazy crowd with Bruce tending to his 'minor in'juries)_

"The DA couldn't understand why Judge Faden insisted on making the hearing public!" Rachael was ticked. "Falcone paid him off to get Chill out in the open!"

"That was so cool!" He ripped off the knife proof vest, "It was like being dang Perry Mason in an action/thriller movie...!"

"Will you SHUT UP Bruce!"

"Or maybe Law & Order & Judge Judy… _nah…_"

"BRUCE!"

"Bet you didn't know your sweet old butler was a liar, a thief AND a cold blood assassin. Huh, been saying that for years…"

"Will let our friends at the GPD handle your 'old friend'. They'll be searching thoroughly and see if there's any connection the to the Thomas/Martha Wayne case."

"I wonder if I paid them if they'd let me throw the switch…"

"Bruce!"

"I'm right here! Sheesh, ALWAYS yelling! Ain't no mystery why they snuffed _you_ out in the second movie…"

"Wha.. what! They who? What are you saying, Bruce?"

"Nothing to worry about, babe." She started to say something else but decided not to.

"Maybe I should thank them…" He was staring out his window now, "About what you said about Chill and the judge."

"You don't mean that" Bruce started to get a little dramatic with a rasp to his voice.

"_What if I do, Rachael?" _Rachel gave him a weird side-look. _"My parents deserved justice."_

"You're not talking about justice. You're talking about revenge."

"_Sometimes, they're the same."_

"No, they're never the same." Justice is about _harmony_. Revenge is about you making yourself feel better. It's why we have an impartial system."

"Man, you _are_ a hippy, aren't you? If justice is about heavenly rainbow buckets of cr*p, then why do I get the warm fuzzies when, for example, I stick my butler in the leg with a knife? Listen lady! This is bleepin' Gotham! Wake up to the Folgers coffee that you fail to snuff every morning before work! YOUR SYSTEM IS BROKEN!"

Rachel jerked the steering wheel. Tires screeched with horns honking as she made a mad left turn.

"OH MY GOSH, WOMAN! OHMYGOSH! YOU'RE POSSESSED!" Bruce rolled down the window screaming for help.

"You care about justice? Look beyond your own pain, Bruce…"

"I'M IN PAIN, WOMAN! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M IN PAIN? HELP MEE!" Rachael rolled up the window, Bruce clawing at it.

"This city is rotting."

"Rotting hell is right, woman!"

"They talk about the depression as if it's history. It's not."

"You're already history you hippy aged dinosaur! Unlock this jamn door, woman!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"What, woman?"

"Stop calling 'woman', Bruce!"

"'Cause that's what you are, woman!"

"Gosh darnit, Bruce, you're down grading womanhood as we know it…"

"Oh, now you're that woman of the _hoods_. Whuz up, homie?"

"Drop dead, Bruce…" Bruce leaned in towards her, adding a rasp to his voice.

"Oh I will, Rachel… but then I will _riiiiise…_"

"Wha…What…? Bruce?" The way he said it scared her. Bruce drew back.

"Nothing, too soon, too soon…" He sighed as he sank to his seat.

"Not like you'll be doing any of that by the time _it_ happens."

"BRUCE! JAMN YOU!"

"'KABOOM'…! Take note of that sound Rachel. That's the sound of a new opening chapter for you..."

"Grrr..."

"Well, actually, for me anyways..."

"_Things are worse than ever down here..."_

"You're ignoring me and sticking to the script, aren't you?"

"…Falcone floods our streets with crime and drugs preying on the desperate..."

"Yep."

"…And creating new Joe Chills every day."

"Is it getting… kinda' _cold_ in here to you?"

Rachel gave a piercing glance. Bruce, in turn, a mocking wide eyed look back.

"Falcone may not have killed your parents, Bruce…" Bruce poked at the air conditioner. "But he's destroying everything that they stood for." She stopped the car. It was dark, in a huge carport under the roads and highways of Gotham. Rachel pointed to a small bar joint through his window.

"You wanna thank him for that? Here you go." Bruce slowly glanced over.

"And here I thought you brought me down here to sell me to the Russian mafia."

"Knock it off, Bruce."

"Hey, I was ready for anything. I was going to make move on you at any minute."

"…"

"That didn't come out right..."

"We all know where to find him", Rachel spoke quickly as she nodded towards the pub, "As long as he keeps the bad people rich and the good people scared, no one'll touch him. Good people like your parents, who'll stand against injustice, they're gone." Bruce looked down. "What chance does Gotham have when the good people do nothing?" There was silence.

"_There's always Batman…"_ Bruce mumbled. Rachel wrinkled her forehead.

"What?"

"I'm not one of your good people, Rachel."

"What do you mean?" There was another pause.

"All these years, I wanted to kill him... Now I can't." He produced the gun to her that was hidden in his sleeve. Rachel's eyes teared up; she looked at Bruce in pain and disbelief.

_SLAP!_

"…uh, ouch…"

_SLAP!_

"ouch…"

"…"

_**SLAP!**_

"OUCH! I get it, _woman_, I get it! Geez... " Rachel shook her head.

"Your father would be ashamed of you." She whispered. Bruce looked at her with a steady gaze…

* * *

"_This just in on Gotham news, a car was soon found floating in Gotham's bay, seemingly accidently being driving off the bridge. Nobody can identify the woman who was driving it, for the body was unrecognizable, but medics are on their way to…"_

* * *

Bruce broke the stare as he shook his head. He grunted himself.

"_Your time will come, 'lady'…"_ He then made his way out of the vehicle, slamming the door. Rachel's eyes followed him. She sniffed, wiping her nose. She cracked a beer on the side of the door as chugged half with one dip, she was an emotional wreck. A tap on the side of her window startled her as she hurled the bottle to the floor. She turned to see a rugged man selling a handful of plastic lunch baggies. She rolled the window down slowly.

"_Wanna a bargain on our powdered sugar, ma'am, it's half off."_ She slumped in her chair, biting her lip, looking both to the man and to the plastic baggies. She looked back up and smiled sweetly.

"Not today, Harry…" She rolled the window back up then gassed it before anyone saw her.


	13. Chapter 13

Bruce stood there, on the bridge, looking out at the view. Thoughts of his parents flashed into his mind, that night in the narrow streets by the theater. Again and again those images repeated themselves in his head. Over and over he relived them…Over and over… Bruce then threw his gun into the water. He then took the other one from his pocket and threw that one in too. In tears, he took off his shoes and dumped the cherry bombs out of them. He took off his trench coat, cutting the fuse before taking off the vest and throwing it in with the rest. His retractable rifle out of his sleeve he dumped with his grief… He put everything back on and head in to meet the one and only crime lord… Carmine Falcone.

* * *

"You're taller than you look in the tabloids, Mr. Wayne." Falcone spoke, sitting at a booth. His boys searched the billionaire.

"No gun? I'm insulted."

_**BANG!**_

"JEEZ! HIT THE DIRT!" The old man shoved a waitress back, spilling boos everywhere. A man in back jumped and crashed through the window, running in the dark. Falcone planted his face to the slimy floor. Bruce was cracking up, as he only shouted the word "bang" to see the crime lord's initial reaction, it was more than money could every buy _him_ he could tell you that much.

After a few minutes of Falcone's thugs beating him up a little, Bruce, looking like crock, was forced into the seat across from their boss. Falcone sneered at him.

"You could've just sent a thank-you note."

"Now, that wouldn't have been fun, would it Falco'?"

"Ya think yer pretty cute, don't ya? Namin' me after some whacka-doo cartoon character. Real cute."

"Actually, it's a _game_ character…"

"WHATeva…"

"It's a classic."

"So what?"

"What? You can't hear old man? IT'S A CLASSIC, MAN! Old as dirt like yer old WRINKLY SCABBED FACE ya freakin' moron! Ya momma too, jerk face!" Carmine squinted an eye, nodding his head. He looked up at his boys.

"Can ya believe this kid?"

**(10 minutes later)**

"I didn't come here to thank you." Bruces eyes almost swelled shut.

"The heck you didn't." He was cheesed.

"I came to show you that not everyone in Gotham's afraid of you."

"Wanna see my mask?"

"What?" Bruce tensed.

"_Heh, heh, heh…"_Falcone chuckled.

_He can't do that! I'M only supposed to do that! Prune face..._

"Ok, one outta three for you, but I'm _still_ not afraid of you."

"Only for those who know me, kid." His face went serious.

"Look around you. You'll see two councilmen... A union official, couple off-duty cops..."

"Hey, Gordon, whuzzup?" Bruce nodded. Gordon quickly slapped his money on the table and quickly left the scene.

"...And a judge." Bruce nodded to judge Faden, who raised his glass to him. Falcone whipped out a gun.

"Wow, you go and rip that from Quebay or something?"

"I wouldn't have a second's hesitation of blowing your head off in front of them. Now, that's power you can't buy. That's the power of fear."

"Again, seriously, I'm not afraid of you."

"Because you think you got nothing to lose. But you haven't thought it through. You haven't thought about your lady friend in the DA's office…"

"Skip her, was going to pay off for someone else to do it, but _HEY_… she's all yours…"

"Ok…you haven't thought about your old butler. _Bang!"_

"SCORE!" Everyone stopped, all staring at Bruce. Bruce put his arms down. Falcone turned his way.

"Bang!" He said, pointing it at Bruce. Bruce looked at the barrel.

"_Mmmmkkk.._ _mhahaha! Heh_, hehe… you serious? _Really?_ After I just did that to you and made you almost wet yourself?" Bruce put a hand to his face. Falcone was flustered. Bruce grinned, then went down to eye level, whispering in his Batman voice.

"_Ya, know… I really don't __**care**__ about the butler either…if you ever watch the news..."_Both eyes were locked, everyone in the room still staring. Falcone sneered at them. All went back to their drinks.

"_So, I'm thinkin' right now… you have nothing on me, right? I mean, come on", he chuckled, "I'm RICH. I could give a rats tail about what ya guys… 'do'. So that means… I don't_ _**have**_ _anything_ _to lose…"_ Falcone adjusted himself and squinted a bit.

"People from your world_… have_ so much to lose." He smirked, but not a nice one.

"Now, you think because your mommy and your daddy got shot…"

"Hit by a bus." Bruce corrected.

"WHO CARES!" Bruce sniffed, whipping his eyes.

"I do…"

"Save it." Falcone said flatly.

"Now, you think because your mommy and your daddy got… _"ran over", _you know about the ugly side of life, but you don't. You've never tasted desperate!" He threw his hands in the air. "You're... You're Bruce Wayne, the prince of Gotham. You'd have to go miles to meet someone who didn't know your name! So... don't come here with your anger, trying to prove something to yourself…"

"I just did… HEY CRANE!" Falcone whipped his head back.

"_**BANG**_ BABY!" Bruce slammed the table. Falcone jumped.

"That's three score for me! OH YEAH!" The startled old man pulled out his gun and waved in Bruce's face.

"Now listen ya little twerp. This is a world you'll never understand! _NEVA_' _EVA'_ understand, ya understand? And you always fear… what you don't understand." Bruce looked at the gun then back at Falcone. His men took a few steps forward.

"No, you don't completely understand _me_, Carmine." The rooms silenced again.

"You know what that means? That means you have _plenty_ to fear from me, if not now, then in _your_ near future. That's right Falcone. Stew on that piece of weed and see how much it grows. _**I'll be back**_." Falcone leaned back, his face looked like he wanted to shoot him right between the eyes... He felt the trigger on his gun

"All right, guys." One of his men came up, shoving Bruce's head and both picking him up by his shoulders. They punched a couple of times before taking him away.

"Yeah, you got spirit, kid, I'll give you that. More than your old man anyway." Bruce gave him the high sign as they started to drag him. "Oh, I almost forgot, in the joint, Chill told me about the night he killed your parents. Yeah, he said your father begged for mercy." Falcone grinned an Alfred grin.

"Begged… Like a dog." He was now one booth away from him.

"You hear me_ rich_ kid? 'Woof'… _like a dog_!" Two booths away. Bruce began to squirm in their tight grips.

"'_Bow-wow'_…heh-heh… _like a mutt_…_!_" Bruce started to kick. He was mad. Falcone leaned forward, smiling coolly.

"…_Woof-woof?"_

"ENOUGH!"

"_Howl… howl..?"_

"BLEEP YOU, I SAID STOP IT_! __**'TOPIT**__!"_ It was really strange and visually unhealthy to see an old mob boss laugh so hard…

"_AROOOOOOO! Ruff, ruff, AROOOOOO!" _Falcone was banging the table now. People started to exit the building.

"_AAAAAHH! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, MAN?"_

"HOW 'BOUT A CHIHUAHUA? HAHAHAHA! _'YipYipYipYipYipYipYip…' (cough, cough, CAFF!) YapYapYapYipYip…" _

That tore it. Bruce head butted the guy to his right 'Bourne style' and elbowed the guy to the left 'Samuri Jack'. He then charged down the aisle like a deranged rhino, and jumped like rabid raccon towards Falcone. Carmine's eyes widened, stricken with fear. He swore underneath his breath as he fumbled for his gun.

"OhMyGoshOhMyGoshOHMY_**GOSH**_…WHY IS THIS !#% GUN EMPTY? _**NOOOOO!"**_

**BANG! **(Real shot, Oh no)

* * *

Bruce opened his eyes, a hand at the mob bosses' throat and a fist hovering in the air. And a ipod with a gun app at his nose...

"Gotcha..." Falcone snickered. Bruce tightened his lip.

_**WHAM!**_


	14. Chapter 14

"You should have tipped better…" Bruce awoke with his face lapping a puddle in front of the bar. He glanced up to see a hobo by a fire barrel, warming himself. Bruce slowly got to his feet, pain surging everywhere."

"_Yep, he's definitely dead when I come back."_ He then strolled up to the barrel, then started casually taking out money from his wallet. He threw the wallet in the barrel holding the money out to the hobo. He eyed the wad of bills then cautiously back to Bruce.

"For what?" He said.

"_Your SOUL."_ Bruce rasped deeply.

"Okay…" The man shrugged.

"Dude! No, here take it!"

"For what?"

"Siiigh, your jacket!"

"Okay." He started taking it off, Bruce in turn taking off his trench coat.

"Hey, hey, hey. Let me have it." Bruce glanced at him.

"I ain't given no hobo my coat. I'm gonna burn it.

"It's a nice coat", He shrugged, "Such a shame that…"

"Yeah? Well, too bad! I'm covering my tracks. Get ya own!" Bruce cast it in the barrel, but the hobo had other ideas.

"But…it's…IT'S A NICE COAT!" He grabbed it before it hit the flames.

"I know, dangit, I spent, like, a thousand bucks on it! GIVE IT BACK!" The hobo kicked the barrel over.

"AAH! Get back here! GET BACK HERE!" He started to roar in his batman voice.

"Russia smiles upon you my friend. Yahoo!" The hobo clicked his heels as he danced to the open side walk while Bruce was finishing his Indian fire dance.

"Be careful who sees you with that_… buster_..." Bruce snarled. He quickly looked around for something to throw. When he found a laden brick, he pulled the last of his C-4 from his back pocket. He stuck it to the brick and hurled it. He then ran the opposite direction through the streets…

"_See how nice it is in pieces, ya Gotham trash…"_

"_**KA-BOOM!"**_

* * *

"Then it was make or break time, I took some of Falcone said and I went to... _"find myself_" and got the heck and dodge out of Gotham, to see what it was like on the other side…"

"Then, when you lived among the criminals, did you start to pity them?" Ducard inquired.

"Heh…" Bruce snickered.

_[Bruce in the busy marketed streets of China]_

"The first time I stole so that I wouldn 't starve, yes."

_[Steals fruit and hides. Sees small urchin boy]_

"I lost many assumptions about the simple nature of right and wrong."

_[Pulls an Aladdin, hands over fruit]_

"_Here, go ahead, take it…" kid puts his hand out._

"_HA! Are you serious? This is survival, man!" Pulls back hand, takes a huge bite. Kid has tear in his eye… then totally takes him out with concealed, awesome ninja moves. Bruce is temporarily a cripple._

"_This definitely __**ain't**__ Gotham…"_

Ducard allowed a smirk as Bruce continued his monologue.

"And when I traveled..."

_[Bruce now in van, looking grizzly and serious]_

"...I learned the fear before a crime..."

_[Van pulls in deserted warehouse, Bruce and others jump out]_

"...and the thrill of success."

_[The Chinese police barge in and disrupt the operation. Men shout and scatter, none escape…]_

"But I… never became one of them…" Bruce sniffed, turning away a little.

"Are… are you _crying_ Bruce?" Bruce snapped back.

"No."

_[Officer speaking mandarin]_

"_Fool. What the heck do I care what your name is? You're a criminal." _

"_I'm not a criminal." Bruce piped up in the same tongue._

"_Tell that to the guy who owned these." Officer kicks box that was being smuggled, the name "Wayne Enterprises" written on it._

"Oh the irony…" Ducard shook his head.

"Yeah, they still didn't get how I knew all those secret passwords to get what I got in the first place. _Definitely_ not Gotham."

"What's that supposed to mean about _us?_"

"That's beside the point…"

_[And finally Bruce is led into the Chinese prison where we first found him] (Yays!) :)_


	15. Chapter 15

"You've traveled the world", Ducard began, "to understand the criminal mind and conquer your fears…" Ducard and Bruce both are now standing in the middle of a room, ninjas all rowed on either side of them.

"But a criminal is not complicated." Ducard puts one of the blue flowers into a bowl, burning it and grinding it's ashes.

"And what you really fear is inside yourself."

"Really?"

"Hush!"

"Sorry, sensei."

"You fear your own power."

"Actually, I kinda like it."

"Hush!"

"Yes, sensei."

"You fear your anger...the drive to do great or terrible things."

"Shoot, that's the best part! That's what makes me so smokin' B.A.!"

"SILENCE! This is your final ceremony! Don't disgrace it!"

"Yes, sensei, sorry sensei…" Bruce gave a couple small bows. Ducard eyed him cautiously.

"Now you must journey _inwards_." Bruce straightened up.

"You are ready." There was a stifled laugh from the back of the room. Ducard quickly turned his head.

"Kill 'im!" There was screaming and scraping of nails as two bulk ninjas started dragging off one of their own. Nobody moved as this scene unfolded. Soon it all disappeared down the hallway. There was silence again.

"_Awkwarrrd…"_ Bruce muttered under his breathe, doing the turtle with his hands. Ducard turned back and presented the burning ashes in the bowl to Bruce's face.

"Whoa!"

"Breathe."

"Sorry, I don't smoke."

"Breathe!" He seemed very earnest.

"Is this going to make me hooked on crack or somethin'?"

"BREATHE!"

"_Breathe!"_ Bruce mocked, pulling a phantom opera pose.

"Breathe!"

"_Breathe!"_

"BREATHE!"

"_BREATHE!"_

"**BREATHE!**

"_**BREATHE!"**_

"_JAMN IT, BRUCE! JUST TAKE THE BOWL AND JUST __**BREATHE**__!"_

"'_No air, Nooo air, noooo air. Tell me how I'm supposed to __**breathe**__ with no air? Can't live, can't breathe with no air. It's how I feel whenever you ain't there. There's no air, no air…'"_

Bruce raised the roof as he sang Jordin Sparks' hottest. Ducard gawked in disbelief. The ninjas amongst them started bobbing their heads, some waving their no service cellphones. Ducard slapped Bruce across the face. The party was over.

"Heads will **roll** if you don't snuff this stuff RIGHT NOW…" He was gritting his teeth as he said this." There was a pause.

"Ok." Bruce shrugged. He took the bowl to take a cancer ridden lung full. Ducard dared not say anything. After he was done, Bruce's head started to get fuzzy, his vision blurring."

"_Cr*p, now I'm screwed…"_

"Breathe in your fears." Rasped Ducard. A rapid vision of Alfred with an axe flashed across his mind.

"HOLY…!"

"Face them!" Another vision of Alfred, this time with a bloodied chainsaw.

"NO!"

"To conquer fear, you must become fear." Bruce heart was wrenching as he looked upon his mentor.

"You must bask in the fear of other men..."

"Just when do we get to that part exactly?"

"…And men fear most what they cannot see." Ducard backed up, pulling his hood over his face. The other ninjas surrounded him, cloaking Ducard from the apprentice. Bruce pulled down his hood as well. All their eyes were glowing, undistinguishing them even more from each other.

"_Man, this stuff's intense."_ Bruce tried to focus, searching.

"You have to become a terrible thought…" The whole room suddenly shifted.

"Geez!" Bruce instinctively swung and hit a ninja right in the leg.

"_HMPH!"_ The ninja jumped up and down in pain.

"Sorry!"

"You have to become like a wraith…" Ducards words seemed to come from everywhere. Bruce pulled out is sword. Tense, he walked down the created isle. He was sweating big time.

"You have to become an idea!" From out a nowhere a ninja sprang to life and attacked him. Bruce slashed wildly, the row of other ninjas reseeding back a bit. It was like a two seconds before Ducard disappeared into the again shifting crowd. Bruce stood gasping for breath.

"Pause, pause! Time out! Half time!" A chuckle could be heard which Bruce didn't like.

"_Feel terror cloud your senses."_

"You're sick sensei!"

"_Feel its power to distort."_

"I think that's the feeling of your brain distorting from mental illness and the over inhalation of crack."

"_Feel its power to control..."_ The room shifted again, this time not as abrupt.

"…_And know that this power can be yours." _Bruce arched his sword, ready for another advance. Nothing. He let it down.

"_Boo…" _Bruce swung all around, blocking his opponent. Then in a second was gone again. The room shifted twice.

"**STOPIT!"** Bruce's head was spinning. He then saw that he standing by himself and was now looking upon a medium sized box just a few steps ahead in front of him.

"_Embrace your worst fear."_ Ducard's voice echoed. Bruce inched towards the box.

"_Become one with the darkness."_ Bruce knew this was a bad idea, knowing exactly what was going to pop out of it if he lifted the lid.

"_Become one with the darkness!"_

"OK! Geez…" He stuck out his sword, ever so slowly, and touched t the lip of it.

"_Become one with the darkness!"_

"Isn't this dark enough? I'm touching it aren't I? Can we call it good?"

"_EMBRACE YOUR WORST FEAR!"_ Bruce shoved open the lid.

"'_**BABY, BABY, BABY, OOOH! LIKE, BABY, BABY, BABY, NOOOO..!'"**_ Bruce crumpled to his knees, putting his hands to his ears.

"MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MOMEEE! DADAAAY!"

"_HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!" _Came the cackling laugh of Sensei Henri Dicard. _"Sensei"_ Ducard…_wow..._

The music stopped, but it wasn't over yet. Bruce, with ears bleeding, peered back over the box.

**SCREECH-SCREECH-SCREECH-SCREECH!** Hundreds of demon Alfred bats flew into his face and all around him. Bruce fell to the ground once more.

"_Focus." _Bruce waved his hands like a little girl.

"_Concentrate."_ He then slowly forced himself to get up.

"_Master your senses…"_

"Will you just SHUT UP, sensei? Where's the mute button when life needs one!" A ninja lunged to his left, He was ready for him, but got his butt kicked again. The room shifted. Bruce looked down at his arm, a slice on the upper sleeve.

"Hmm…" Bruce went to one ninja and did the same, then another. Ducard strolled through the ninjas, looking for his marked prey.

"_This is too easy…"_ Ducard spotted his mark. He went for the kill. He lunged, wrapping his arm about Bruce's neck and placing his sword at the chin.

"You cannot leave any sign…" He took off his hood.

"_I haven't..."_ Ducard whipped his head around. He saw no one there. He looked down at his prey. It wasn't Bruce. He pushed the ninja down and sprang to his feet.

"Bruce…" No answer.

"Bruce!" Still no answer. A flap of wings from a bird could be heard from his right. Ducard craned his neck sharply. A creek from the old wood to his left, Ducard whipped around, holding up his sword. Silence. Then more silence…

"WHERE ARE YOU!" The Sensei shouted angrily.

"_Up here…"_ Spoke a whispered rasp. Ducard glanced up.

"AAAAAAAAHH!" Blackness.

* * *

Clapping could be heard from one lone person. It was coming from the balcony. Bruce looked up, it was Ra's Al Ghul. Bruce finished the last knot of his hog tied mentor as he stood up straight to face him. Ra's smirked.

"Impressive." He swung around, making an over dramatic cape swoosh.

"Does this mean I passed, Ducu?" Bruce grinned, kicking him in the ribs.

"_MMPH $% #HMMMMMHPH!"_


	16. Chapter 16

Ducard, Bruce and Ra's Al Ghul stood in the middle of the room. Ra's poking at the fire pit with mentor and mentee side by side facing him. Ra's began to speak.

"We have purged your fear." Ducard translated. Bruce along with a whole group of ninjas, stood as he was finally being accepted into their circle.

"You are ready to lead these men. You are ready to become a member of the League of Shadows."

"Hold on a sec, Ducu…" Bruce ran past a few ninjas and went into the other room. Ducard gave a nervous smile and laugh towards Ra's, whose brows were furrowed and was not amused.

"Ok! I'm ready!" Bruce ran back amongst the group. Ducard's eyes bulged as he witnessed one of his finest pupils dressed in a full black cap and gown.

Bruce smiled brightly. He then whipped out his ipod and speakers and flipped it to 'Pomp and Circumstance'. Bruce stood straight and tall as if prepared to receive his diploma.

"Bruce… what the heck?"

"I would like to make a speech…" If Ra's eyelids could raise any higher…

"My fellow ninjas, dark lords and shadow people, it's been a looong several years…" Bruce began.

"Oh my gosh…" Ducard rasp underneath his breath. Bruce looked back.

"Chill, just 'breathe' a little." Bruce smirked as Ducard looked at him while scratching the side of his face with his chosen finger. Bruce continued.

"But now this day has come. Yes, we had our differences in the past. Yes, at numerous times, we even threatened to kill each other... or run our swords into one another…Preying each other with knifes and blades as we slept through the night…acid in the bubble bath or glycerin in our drinks…"

"BRUCE! THIS HAS GONE FAR ENOUGH!" Ducard interrupted.

"Yes, it has…_way_ too far", Bruce responded with a twinkle in his eye, "Because from this moment in time, right here and now… we can declare ourselves brothers…" He went up to two random ninjas and patted them heartily on the shoulders. He then faced his mentor again.

"And you, Ducu, come 'ere!" He went over and gave him a huge bear hug. You could almost here the loud crutch of his spine.

"Bruce…" His voice strained.

"Shh, don't ruin the moment, Ducu, soak it in!" Ducard stood there rigidly for an awkward total of ten seconds before Bruce stood back, patted him hard on the shoulder then turned, sniffing and wiping a tear from his eye. Some sniffles could be heard amongst the nearby viewers as well.

Ducard, totally freaked, quickly hollered in mandarin to bring out the prisoner… _fast_. Two sturdy ninjas dragged the man in front of Bruce.

"But before all is finished, my apprentice, first you must demonstrate your commitment to justice." He whipped out a sword and held it out to Bruce. Bruce was silent for a second, them grinned.

"What, is this your guy's version of piñata or somethin'?"

"Take it, Bruce." Ducard spoke firmly. Bruce's smile disappeared. He looked down at the trembling man kneeling sideways at his feet. He then looked at Ducard.

"No.", There was a gasp, "I'm no executioner."

"_You jamn well better be…"_ Bruce blinked and looked at Ra' Al Ghul, who was staring at him with the intenseness of a mental psycho.

"Holy…" Ducard looked at Bruce.

"Your compassion is a weakness, Bruce…"

"…Crap, I thought you only knew _one stinkin' word!_"

"…That your enemies will not share…" Ducard cocked an eyebrow.

"Hold on D, did I hear ol' wrinkles over there just speak English?" Ra's eyes looked like they were ready to pop out from all his intense "owl staring".

"_That's what happens when you're hooked on breathing that wacky weed…"_ Bruce looked him up and down.

"Bruce!" Bruce glanced toward Ducard.

"No…That's why it's so important. It separates us from them…" Bruce looked at Ra's once again. "Or maybe just the two of _us_ and them…"

"You want to fight criminals. This man is a murderer!"

"This man should be tried."

"By whom? Corrupt bureaucrats? Criminals mock society's laws. You know this better than most."

"Didn't you hear me? I said no, Ducu!"

"_You cannot lead these men..."_ Spoke a psychotic rasp.

"Hey, you, Ra's Ghuly-o, you shut up and speak your native tongue, home boy." Ducard's face was turning red, and it was not from embarrassment. Ra's snorted.

"You cannot lead these men, unless you are prepared to do what is necessary to defeat evil."

"And where would I be leading these men?" Ra's eyes widend even more with anticipation… ew.

"Gotham." He hissed. Bruce's heart skipped a beat.

"As Gotham's favored son, you will be ideally placed to strike at the heart of criminality."

"How?" Bruce cringed as a slow, not so childlike smile peeled over his high cheek bones.

_Here it comes…_

"Gotham's time has come!" Ra's heavily drew out, his body trembling for joy as he spoke it.

"Like Constantinople or Rome before it. The city has become a breeding ground for suffering and injustice. It is beyond saving and must be allowed to die."

"Man you have issues…" Bruce was not enjoying seeing this man talk.

"This is the most important function of the League of Shadows. It is one we've performed for centuries." His eye started to switch while a fly could be heard buzzing around his head.

"Gotham...", he breathed, "Must be destroyed." He voice cracked a little, His smile made Alfred's look like a Norbit white gum commercial… but on steroids. Bruce glanced back at his sane mentor.

"You can't believe in this."

"Ra's al Ghul rescued us from the darkest corners of our own hearts. What he asks in return is the courage to do what is necessary." Bruce stared in disbelief and looked back at Ra's. If possible he looked even worse. He bent toward Ducard's ear.

"_But he's a whack job!"_

"No, Bruce, listen…"

"No, you listen, you totally ruined my party buzz. The guys and I were going to have a mardi gras on the roof and now that's over and done now. I will go back to Gotham and I will fight men like this but I will not become an executioner."

"Bruce, please. For your own sake, there is no turning back."

"Read…my…lips…"

"No, read…this…sword!" He held it out firmly to him again. Veins and perspiration was beginning to show on Ra's forehead. Bruce looked to the floor.

"_Are you sure you want to go down this road, Ducu?_" Bruce spoke in his low Batman voice.

"**What** did you say?" Ducard gritted his teeth, his hand slowly going for his own sword. The room didn't breathe for almost thirty seconds. Nothing could be heard except the buzzing of the fly circling Ra's bald head. Then, the unexpected… happened.

"Okay!" Bruce broke into a big smile, his arms swung up in the air. Everyone jumped; even Ducard forgot to take out his sword in that instant.

"Wha-what?" Ducard stammered.

"Ya got me Ducu…" He swaggerd on up and snatched the blade from his hands. He stood over the kneeling man. It was Ducard's turn to blink in amazement.

"'_Ya got me?'_ That's it?" Ducard gawked.

"Yep boy. After this us guys are going to have ourselves a little mardi gras! Ain't that right, boys?" There was hoot and hollers all around.

"We work too hard, don't we boys?"

"YEAH!"

"And after that, how's about we go n' suit up in the morning and try to give Gotham a little piece of heck?"

"OOOOH YEAH!"

"PREACH IT!"

"OW!"

Ducard was the only one not participating.

"Oh, and Ducu's gonna be driving the luggage rack this time, cause we all know what a party animal _he_ is…" Bruce rolled his eyes. There was a hearty laugh all round. Ducard, again, was not amused.

"Bruce…"

"Yeah, yeah, got to get _this_ over with… Don't wait up guys, start up the barbeque and burgers, ya know how I like 'em."

Bruce adjusted himself up like he was focusing on a golf ball in a golf tournament, looking a bit strange in his gown and grad cap. The guy in the middle of all this craziness and about to be eliminated looked up as the blade touched the back of his neck. Bruce slowly raised it up, curling his fingers, concentrating.

"_Yes…Yesss… my precious."_ Bruce glanced at Ra's.

"Hey psycho…SHUT UP." He looked down again and held his stance, blade still up.

"What are you doing?" Ducard asked from behind in an impatient tone. Bruce closed his eyes , taking a deep breathe then sighing.

"_So… it has begun…"_

"What? Bruce…What?"

"'_What am I doing..?'"_ With a flash, and without warning, Bruce whipped down his sword…catching the hot iron rod in the fire pit and flipping it in the air toward a pile of explosives.

"What's necessary, my friend." Bruce climatically.

**_KABOOM!_**

* * *

The building came to life, especially when the track on his ipod switched over to Star Wars' "Duel of the Fates". But that's not all that came to life…

"_**RAAAAA!"**_ Ra's Al Ghul. As if these whole chain of events were the single excuse for the man to go finally buck wild…

Bruce was ready for him, throwing off his grad cap. The rest of the ninjas stood back to watch.

"Let's tango, crazy man…" Bruce was so totally pumped.

"RAAA!" Was all Ra's response.

Like a Jedi, Bruce did a leap spin in the air, striking Ra's sword with his. The smell of smoke was in the room as everything became a ticking time bomb, exploding here and there in other parts of the building.

Ra's pulled back, his madness at full mast as he grinned and then lunged in for another attack. Bruce's cloak swished as he made a move to miss, then pushing the old man over. Ra's bounced right up and did a Power Ranger twist and held his sword high. Bruce blocked it when it came down.

"RAAA!" Ra's growled.

"Stop doing that! You're not a jamn bear or cougar or somethin', jeez!" Bruce took another swing, Ra's backed up. In the background, ninja's were roasting weenies over the exploding flames. They were now both dancing over the catwalk, the world around them coming apart.

"RAAAAA!"

"I wonder is _that_ the reason they named you? 'RAA's' Al Ghul? And why you're so messed up?"

"Hehe…" Ra's grunted.

"Yep, we'll go with that theology…"

Ra's thrust his sword, Bruce bent backword. Ra's swung another hook, Bruce pulled aside to make room to push him to the ground. With another last effort, Ra's did a triple swing running toward his adversary.

"Ra's, look, BUDDHA!"

"Ah!" As he took the bait, Bruce, doing a flip worthy of the Matrix, shot out his foot and hit Ra's squarely in the chest. Ra's hit the dirt hard.

**"RAA! I've fallen down and I can't get up! I've fallen down and I can't get up!"** Ra's screeched as he writhed on the floor.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS TREASON…AAAHHH!"

In seconds, a piece of the ceiling collapsed and landed on top of the poor, screaming man…

"Man…", Bruce said cracking his neck, "_That _was a good work out." He then rolled his shoulders and walked casually back through the worsening flames. He found Ducard on the ground knocked unconscious.

"Figures..." He muttered to himself. He heaved his mentor over his shoulder.

"You definitely need to owe me for this one…" Bruce grabbed a weenie off a dead ninja's spear, then a discarded bun from a burning table.

"Hmm, just how I like it… extra crispy…"

**KABOOOOOM!**

"Guess we need to get out of here, don't we Ducu?" Bruce looked about the floor to locate his ipod. When he did, he flipped through list, Ducard still limply hanging from his shoulders and in a building ready to go at any minute.

"What would be a great note to go out on?" He scrolled some more, then stopped. He grinned,

"Oooh yeah…" He popped in his ear buds, and started running towards the window.

_Music: 'Oh, Ooh Oooh… Oh Oooh…'_

The bomb finally set off behind as Bruce made a life and death leap.

_Music: 'And everybody was kung-fu fightiiiing…!'_

_**CRASH! BOOOOOM!**_

Bruce was in the open air.

'_Those cats were fast as lightning…'_

"_Hoo!", _Bruce hit the snowy ground._  
_

_Music: 'In fact it was a little bit frightning…'_

Ducard was nowhere to be found…

"OH SHI…" Bruce dove down the slippery slope heading for the edge of the cliff, where Ducard was unconsciously sliding to as well._  
_

_Music: 'But they fought with expert timing…"_

"_Ohmygosh,ohmygosh,ohmygosh,ohmygosh…"_ Bruce reached out, both of them seconds from the rocky ledge. In the last instant, Bruce caught Ducards hand. Bruce lay on his back, his body over the edge, and slammed his left, spiked gauntleted arm into the snow.

**"AAAAAAAH! RAAAA!**" They were now hanging off the side, the explosions ringing loudly in the background, ash and debris flying everywhere.

"OH MY GOOOSH! YOU WAY LIKE A _COOOW!_ **OWWW!**" Bruce, mustering all his strength, slowly and painfully hoisted up his limp lying mentor. When he finally had him at his side, Bruce was heaving from exhaustion.

"Man, LAY OFF that egg fu yung, pal… jeez…" Bruce quickly felt for his front pocket.

"Where's my…" he looked over and found his ipod at arm's length teetering at the edge of the cliff.

"I hate this day…" Making sure Ducard was fully secure, Bruce began to reach for his prized possession.

_**KABOOM!**_

Bruce glanced up.

_"Is that a helmet rolling down the hill?"_

For about thirty second he watched as the object pick up speed in his initial direction. His gaze then followed to his ipod.

"Oh no…"

'_**Ting!'**_

The helmet was gone... so was his ipod...

"NO!" In a fast reflex marked only by today's electronic culture, Bruce tried to catch it before it completely left his grip. Unfortunately as he did so, so did the bearing ground beneath him...

* * *

Eight hours had past when Bruce at last threw down the limp, bandaged body of his mentor on a cot in a small hut of the village. Bruce himself battered and bruised from climbing all that way up the cliff side. He was not happy and thus spat on the ground. The china dude inhabiting the hut squinted at him.

"Take him. He's in your care now…"

"I will tell him you saved his life." Bruce wearily glanced at the body.

"You can tell him he owes me a new ipod and that I will not pay for the damages to his house…"

With that he bowed and turned, leaving the small hut.

* * *

**DMM: Next he gets to finally be reunited with dear ol' father Alfred. I wonder what THAT encounter will be like... _(Dum-Dum- DAAAA!) The next chapter awaits! :)_**


	17. Chapter 17

Bruce Wayne knew this day would come. Yes, he knew all his training would lead up to this moment in time, at least one of two moments. This was an old fear and rebuttal, a road block ready to be moved to lead off to his planned destiny…There was no turning back.

Bruce walked down the wide, lone, landing strip. Mountain ranges were surrounded on all sides. A small jet was waiting for him and as he approached the door of its side began to open. And who would come hobbling out to greet him none other than…

_"Master Wayne"_. An older gentleman with an English accent, an accent Bruce knew too well. The old man smiled; even from a slight distance the yellow of his teeth could be unmistakable. Bruce kept an even pace as he reached the vessel.

"Master Bruce, you've been gone a long time."

"Who let _you_ out of your cage, Alfred?"

"Ah, the manners of a prince, nothing's changed so it seems…"

"You were licensed for document forgery, black mail to my parents _and_ child abduction, yet they still let you roam free through the streets? Man, I didn't come soon enough. Garbage Gotham is so blurred and buried in their own trash they can't tell the psychos from the civilians.

"I actually, left the country. Rather nice for the sake of change of scenery."

"Probably used what money was left in the vault."

"I taught at a university in Paris, actually. Changed my name to Professor Stephen Miles. "

"And _why_ would I even care to know any of this?"

"I taught very well there. Such a shame I had to leave for this..." Alfred looked about, apparently ignoring Bruce's blatant jibes. Bruce snorted.

"Huh, besides, what do _you_ have to teach?"

"More than you give me credit for, Master Bruce."

"Yeah, but _**I**_ know your true colors."

"The judge stated that you were of an unstable mind, if I recall it right… and do to your rendezvous that same day added more to that case."

"And leaping over the table like a mad man with two buck knifes is considered stable?" Alfred grinned.

"The court chooses to acknowledge the more… _important_ things, and not trivial behavioral mishaps."

_Behavorial mishaps my flyin' ninja a*s! Man, our system __**is**__ broken. Too many monkey wrenches thrown in and not enough Bat…_

"You look of loss for words, Master Bruce. Would you like to join me up in the plane, or did you just call me up here to say how much you missed me?"

"I expected someone else..._ 'FYI'_!" Bruce spoke with exaggerated air quotes.

"Well, I'm all you've got now, might as well make the best of the situation."

"I'm bouncing with giggling joy…" Bruce trudged to the foot of the stairway; he stopped and looked at his old butler squarely in the eye. After, first, looking him over.

"Jeez, if you looked old when I left, you sure look stinkin' older now."

"I didn't abed in your parents deaths." Alfred said curtly, cutting to the chase.

"You forged the will, made it so you'd get everything. That's enough for me." Bruce shrugged nonchalant.

"Well… _'yes'_… in a way, and _'no'"._

"'_No'_, Alfred? What am I supposed to believe here?"

"'_Yes'_, I forged that will, but _'no'_ not for the reasons you've been accusing me for all these years. You've been holding on to that notion since you were a small boy… and a bratty spoiled one at that."

"Yeah… surrre", Bruce rolled his eyes, "You were the crusty old miser, remember?"

"I did what I had to do to keep _your_ family fortune afloat!" Alfred spoke briskly, his voice elevating.

"Ok how, Alfred, _how?"_

"The day your parents died", Alfred began, "I knew sooner or later I would have to present the will to Wayne Enterprises to justify the legalizations of where the shares, your family's shares, would be distributed, and also, I might add, of my being able to legally raise you."

"Well big 'whooptie-doo' for _that_ all turning out smoothly…"

"But when I checked the vault that was behind the tapestry, the will was gone! I knew it had to be one of the hired servants because nobody else could know where it would be."

"Wait, freeze, in the first place, they wouldn't know the code. Secondly, they wouldn't even know the place… unless…" Bruce's eyes narrowed as Alfred cleared his throat.

"You didn't."

"I had to confide in someone I trusted, just in case something happened to _me_, likewise your parents."

"You're a rat, Alfred, should have fired you years ago." Bruce began clenching his fists.

"I thought the man was trustworthy, but I was wrong, he was actually a mole spying for your secret estates…"

"I'm going into the plane now, if you expect me to believe this cr*p you dumped the tea years ago …" Bruce pushed passed as he made it half way up the steps. Alfred just stood there.

"Since I knew where to start searching, it didn't take very long, the man posing as a hired hand actually worked for a man at Wayne Enterprises…" Bruce stopped. There was a long pause before he asked the next obvious question.

"Well, who was he working for..."

"William Earle, CEO of _your_ company…" Bruce turned and looked at Alfred.

"No… He came to my parent's funeral." Bruce murmured.

"Well played I'd say, sir." There was another pause of silence; Bruce was gripping the railing…hard. Alfred couldn't see the expression on his face, since Bruce's back was fully turned. But when he did turn, the butler was in for a big surprise.

"YOU LIAR!" Bruce cried. Like lightning, he whipped out his ninja sword. Alfred's eyes widened as he stepped away from the plane in shock and horror. They were in the middle of nowhere, no one knew they were there, and there were no witnesses either…

"Now M-Master Bruce…" Alfred stammered. Bruce suddenly leapt from the top step and was now at the bottom with the blade pointed at his old adversary's neck.

"You're dying today, you ol' geezer!" Bruce edged closer, the steel now touching pink flesh.

"W-What did I say…Master…" Bruce pushed a little harder, Alfred winced.

"You think after all these years being away, you'd think you could dupe me? Just like that? I remember that day! And right after the funeral of my parents I remember kicking you in the knee cap and locking you out of my house!"

"Yes, I remember the same, had to get the fire department to break open the door. But why is this relevant…_ah!"_ Bruce twisted the blade. He was breathing heavily, his eyes fixed.

"I hid that will! You hear me, old man? Before you could even get to me, I hid it in a place that _no_ one could find it! I _knew_ the codes! I broke in and got to it before you even had the chance!"

"That was a fake will…" Alfred rasped.

_...Huh?_ Bruce was taken a little aback at this sudden statement. He eased his pressure on the blade a bit.

"What? What do you mean a fake will?" Bruce spoke in utter disbelief.

"Your mum and dad knew you'd been breaking in and out of that blasted safe! Sometimes they would even find it unlatched and unprotected! Stupid boy", He added gritting his teeth. "Knowing what a nuisance you could be at times, they went to all the trouble to have a fake made up just to keep you occupied so to place the _real_ will in a more secure location!" The words were now spinning around like gold fish in Bruce's head. He felt like he was in the freakin' twilight zone.

"What would have happened, Bruce, if someone happened upon it? Found it unlocked? Not just the cash & rubles, mind you, but the deed to the entire family fortune in hand? And you… heavens, I knew _exactly_ where a dim witted brat like you would hide something of that sort."

"Then tell me!" Bruce goaded, Alfred sighed in exasperation.

"There are very few amount of places that a young boy would think to hide things: Tucked in the chimney fireplace for example.

_Didn't do that 'cause I knew it would probably burn…_

"Your written diary…"

"It was a _journal_, Alfred."

"Or how about stuffed in between your bed mattress, hm?"

_Cr*p_

"In between your mattress, Bruce? Really?" He chuckled cruelly, "Surely if _I_ could find that, any one of the other servants who cleaned the manor could easily as well…" Bruce said nothing.

_I knew I should have hid it in…_

"…Your piggy bank. My stars, Bruce…" Bruce mouth opened, he must have made a face. He suddenly dug his sword back into Alfred's neck.

"That's _'Master'_ to you! And how'd the heck did you know…"

"I found the remnants of the wax seal within its contents when I was in my searchings' for it."

"Then _you're _the one who broke Mister Hammy? Does your evil know no bounds?"

"The point is it was crucial that I find the fake one, because the person I knew who possessed it would soon find it was a phony and then use it against _your_ honorable parents for fraud and for forgery!" Bruce moved in closer, sneering in defiance.

"So, you're saying, doc, it's my fault for this? If I left well alone, the fake wouldn't have been made and…"

"Either way, they would have gotten the will; my mistake on misplaced trust. _You_ just made it possible that they didn't get the real one."

"So what? What happened next?"

"With me holding the real document in hand, and your family's name about to be scrubbed from financial existence, I arranged a secret meeting with the man and the guy he was working for…"

"William Earle…I almost feel I need to fire that man too."

"I said to them that they couldn't make a move against us until the natural heir had his say so in this matter."

"Which would've been me…"

"Quite so, and since you were a minor at the time, they would have to wait until you were at the legal age to deal with it on equal terms."

"You mean, an even playing field?"

"And you just loosing your parents."

"And they agreed to that?"

"You have to give the man more integrity than that, they thought they had nothing to lose. Nobody knew what the real will actually said, beside the three of us. They could make up any document they wanted so that they would have the whole lot. And added that your parents were past and couldn't speak for themselves on their own behalf, and I just their butler…"

"Dirty… dirty dealin' Gotham…" Bruce spat on the ground.

"You were the key, Master Bruce…and I helped you without you even knowing it." By this time Bruce's sword had already gone to his side, his brow furrowed in trying to put the puzzle pieces together. Then it suddenly dawned on him.

"So… You _let_ me… in the courtroom… accuse you for fraud and forgery?"

"I had to keep the family name of "Wayne" on its natural course, even if it meant leaving you bread crumbs to collect and also coaxing the fires of your distain for me, enough for you to turn the tides in my direction. Very dramatically I might add."

"Announcing you up publically…"

"The scene was perfect, Master Bruce, The rigmarole in the courtroom just made it better. After you left, the FBI began to dig for answers. So Earle let it all drop, denied he ever had the notion; burned the will. Nothing got out."

"But we have the real one, the real will, I mean."

"When the fake was stolen I immediately placed the original back where you had hid the fake one."

"Then _I_ had the real will on that day at court?"

"Precisely."

"With _another_ fake one?"

"The more confusing the better."

"I need a drink..."

"We have some boos in the jet, I do believe sir."

"Man, you were a beast in there, Alfred. Like a wild demon…"

"After that, 'bout iced up for a week."

"So… you didn't blackmail my folks?" Bruce ventured. Alfred cleared his throat.

"I think you lead yourself to believe that, sir."

"What about knocking me out? With chloroform! That was before any of this!" He squinted, on the defense again, but waited for a response.

"Your folks wanted to be monitored by me, and no one else, so that if anything happened to them while in the midst of Gotham, I could get you away safe and instantaneously."

"THEN WHY USE CHLOROFORM, MAN? I WAS LIKE EIGHT!"

"You were noisy bliter. That was the only way to shut you up so not to make a seen! Plus, undeniably, it did me…actually _you_ a few favors in the process ..." Bruce tossed his sword and threw up his hands.

"So you _let_ me use the videos from the nearby buildings to help to your…my…cause?"

"I'll be waiting in the jet if you need me, sir. You can thank me later if you like…" Alfred patted Bruce on the shoulder and made his way up the stairs.

"So how did you take care of my money? You're in Paris for gosh sakes!"

"The internet is a strange a marvelous invention, _and_ I'm in the will… If you ever read the full blasted thing you'd know that. But for that to be so, as you well figured out now, I needed your signature first to do that…" He disappeared in the hull, at the same time telling the waiting driver to start the engines.

"How'd you manage that?" Bruce was raising his voice loud enough to be heard over the starting turbo. The butler stuck his head out, he grinned his ever yellow smile. He shouted.

"Now, you wouldn't sue me for such a thing as a little hand written forgery, would you Master Bruce?" Bruce was getting hysterical. He ran his fingers through his hair. He finally faced his first obstacle... It certainly was not what _he_ had expected it to be. But now it was time to start a new chapter. It was time for Bruce… to begin!

Bruce cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled aloud at the top of his lungs.

"You're crazy! Ya know that? You're a crazy b.a. butler!"

"Likewise to you, Master Bruce, now get in!"

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE BEGINS!**

THE END...


	18. Chapter 18

_[Plane just taking off the landing strip]_

"But you stabbed me with a knife! What about that, huh?"

"Let it go, Master Bruce..."

"Attacked… in the air… with _**two**_ buck knives!"

"I knew you were wearing the vest, no harm done, sir."

"Ok, ok, I'm done… Wait…"

"Yes, Master Bruce?" (Sighing)

"So if CEO Earle was the one who almost got my pot o' gold…"

"Again, sir, 'no', he has nothing to do with the death your parents."

"Hmm… Alfred! I think we have a kick butt mystery on our hands!"

"Very in character, sir, very…"

* * *

**_Stay tuned to for story part 2!_**

**BRUCE WAYNE: DAWN OF THE BAT! :)**


End file.
